


Fast Feet and Dusty Glasses

by rosesinheavylight



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Gen, TF2 Fusion, TF2 Fusions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 04:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4421321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesinheavylight/pseuds/rosesinheavylight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scout and Medic fuse during battle, becoming an awkward but strong-willed man with four arms and a fascination with himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fast Feet and Dusty Glasses

**Author's Note:**

> I think this AU is a really interesting idea, and I've been in a bit of a block for a little bit so please take this drabble about it from me, haha. I haven't written TF2 in awhile, either, so forgive me for any mischaracterization, too.  
> I don't think I'll add onto this, as it isn't that developed to begin with, but who knows? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

"Doc!"

Medic whipped around to see where Scout's voice was coming from. He got a sharp kick of annoyance from his colleague's voice at this point. Out of everyone there, Scout was often the one that yelled for him out and then ran off to fight some more as he tried to keep the medigun's aim on him.

The younger mercenary was beaming in the dust and calamity around them, bullets firing off in thundering claps and gunsmoke inhaled at every bend of the battlefield. Medic almost couldn't make out what he was saying, too many things going on around both of them.

"Fuse with me! C'mon, Medicine Man!" Scout was clenching his fists, and Medic narrowed his eyes.

A rocket blew up only yards away from the two men's feet, causing Medic to duck a bit. Scout insisted, "THIS AIN'T A TIME FOR STALLIN'! EITHER WE FUSE NOW OR WE DIE!"

"Oh, dying isn't that big of a deal, if you ask me. We have the Respawn, remember?" Medic nodded to him with a smartass smirk, causing Scout to groan loudly. Finally, Medic rolled his eyes and agreed, "Very well, Scout. Let us fuse!"

"Really?" Scout gave a crooked grin, raising his eyebrows.

Medic didn't hear him. Demoman was causing a ruckus too close by, and his explosives filled the self-named doctor's eardrums with nothing but ringing. Kicked up dust was settled into his glasses, and Medic was growing irritated by it.

Scout cut to the chase, and Medic stopped cleaning off the dust to see him doing some strange, almost Salsa dance movement. He tensed up, trying to figure out how to approach this. "Just follow my lead, brainiac." Scout took Medic's hands but was caught off-guard when he straightened himself out and began doing a sort of quick paced side-step alongside him.

The two then seperated, Medic letting Scout prance around for a bit before coming back and the two of them waltzed about, a little broken as it became a slow sort of movement.

"Never knew you danced like this, doc," Scout muttered as Medic spun him from under his arm like a ballerina, "I'm just gonna come forward and admit you're...kinda catchin' me off guard."

"Are you saying that you think I can't dance?" the merc laughed, pulling Scout close and then throwing him backwards over his arm.

The late morning sun was blocked by Medic as he leaned in, and he hissed, "I am a dance _machine_ , Scout."

A harsh firecracker-like sound emitted from where they stood, bright red and white embers snapping alive into a storm of lights. "WHO THE HELL IS FUSING!?" Demoman hollered. A stream of red light streaked the clouds of dust and gunsmoke like a snake, but then crumbled in the blue sky above the mess like a flock of birds dispersing.

"SCOUT AND MEDIC FUSION INCOMIN'!" Engineer yelled, and suddenly a foreign voice replied, "YOU BET I AM!"

From the lights, now only sparks that were dying in the dirt, a very tall man came forward. He had four arms, a flurry of rubber and bandage mixed. He had three eyes, all an ice blue that had anything but a chill to it, looking before everything with a young and restless glaze. Dogtags protruded from the familiar beige vest and white dress shirt and jingled with every small movement.

The man rose his four hands up and laughed again, "Now _this_ is what I call a good combination. I mean, have my eyes always been this good? I dunno anymore, I'm one guy now..."

He realized he was speaking to no one, and began to job after his team, who had left this part of the field ages ago.

"Guess we're a bit late to the party. Dammit."


End file.
